


Reciprocity

by Wicked_Seraph



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comeplay, First Time, Fluff and Smut, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wicked_Seraph/pseuds/Wicked_Seraph
Summary: Eiji reacted to him like any man would, on the surface. His heart raced and cheeks flushed when Ash pressed their lips together; his lips were warm and slightly chapped, clumsy and eager as Ash licked at them in invitation.But Eiji’s pleasure ignited something Ash had long since considered cold, dead cinders.For the first time, Ashwanted.[Written for Day 1 of#BF Smut Week, for the prompt "First Time".]





	Reciprocity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 1 of [#BF Smut Week](https://twitter.com/hashtag/BFSmutWeek?src=hash), for the prompt "First Time".

On the surface, all of this was familiar.

Ash knew the furrow of a man’s brow as pleasure burned low and sweet in his veins, knew how to read the melody of gasping breaths and moans muffed by a hand covering one’s mouth. He knew the faint salinity of sweat-slicked skin, the muskiness of precum, and the bitterness of lust milked from between a stranger’s thighs.

Sex was filthier than art, but required the same attention  to detail, knowing when to twist his wrist or flick his tongue to make a man shudder. He knew when to look from beneath batted eyelashes and demure, lips plump and pursed suggestively, and when to preen and pretend that the eyes plucking the flesh from his bones didn’t cause his soul to recoil in revulsion.

Eiji reacted to him like any man would, on the surface. His heart raced and cheeks flushed when Ash pressed their lips together; his lips were warm and slightly chapped, clumsy and eager as Ash licked at them in invitation. Ash sucked at his tongue, curious and insistent; Eiji trembled and moaned in reply. 

Any man would.

But Eiji’s pleasure ignited something Ash had long since considered cold, dead cinders, encouraged a roaring flame that stole his breath and finesse. 

For the first time, Ash  _wanted_.

Ash felt himself melting beneath Eiji’s lips, felt himself become heady and delirious as Eiji’s fingers left goosebumps in their wake; for the first time, he felt something other than nausea and fear churn within him. Eiji’s fingers meshed with his own as he was pressed against the wall, as Eiji’s arousal was hot and firm against his thigh. Ash wrapped his legs around Eiji’s waist and ground against him, whimpering softly; feeling Eiji’s arousal through his trousers sent sparks along Ash’s spine, agonizingly close to severing his self-control.

“God, Eiji, please,” he begged, voice breathy and uncertain as to what he was requesting. He’d found himself beneath and in front of countless faceless monsters, voyeur to their darkest pleas, and yet for the first time he found himself clueless as to what should follow.

“Hold me?” Eiji asked, hands running through Ash’s hair before he brought their lips together once more. Ash wrapped his arms around Eiji’s shoulders, shivering as the movement brought their hips flush against one another; he could feel Eiji’s body heat from the juncture of his thighs, swore that he could feel Eiji’s heartbeat, erratic percussion betraying his excitement. They could do little more than nip and moan against one another’s mouths, rutting against one another and basking in the ache of shared friction. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d felt another man’s arousal pressed against him, but this was the first time that he’d wanted to, that he wanted to learn the feel of someone’s bare skin. Being witness to Eiji’s pleasure, seeing his eyes filled with lush ferocity, only served to nourish the greedy lust simmering within him;  something voiceless keened within him, and every rough snap of Eiji’s hips was like nectar to sate it.

“Ash, I’m so close, I—”

Eiji’s voice was husky in a way that sent a pulse of electricity straight to his cock; before he could stop himself he dropped to his knees, fiddling with Eiji’s zipper. Ash’s mouth watered, breaths thin as he imagined how Eiji would feel, how he would taste.

“What are you—?

“I want to make you feel good. Please let me.”

Ash absently licked his lips as he pulled Eiji’s cock from the small gap in his trousers, wedged lewdly through the zipper.

“You don’t have to do this,” Eiji said, voice eerily calm as he placed a hand against Ash’s cheek. Ash felt nervous in a way that was joyous rather than frightening, exposed yet eager. Eiji’s cheeks were pink, his hair disheveled, but the eyes that met his requested nothing except honesty. 

It felt like, little by little, he was being put back together, somehow, even while he felt himself coming apart, reminiscent of a single ember amidst kindling begging to be set aflame.

“I know I don’t have to, which is why I want to. God, do I want to,” he whispered, voice hoarse.  He suppressed a smile as Eiji's cock twitched in his grasp, as Eiji’s breath caught in his throat. He flicked his tongue experimentally and was rewarded with a low, breathy gasp. Emboldened, he ran his tongue up the length of Eiji’s shaft, memorizing the feel and weight of it. Eiji’s lips parted in a soft moan, fingers tightening in Ash’s hair as slow, curious licks became more drawn out, as a hot tongue wrapped around Eiji as much as possible. 

The coil of heat in his stomach was unfamiliar;  he’d felt desire like one tasted dinner when regurgitated — always unwanted, and always as a nauseating reminder of what he’d been forced to take within himself. Desire was a raw throat and the bitter aftertaste of champagne.

Desire had been never all-consuming and acute, reminiscent of moscato and jasmine; he’d never felt heady with it, drunk on body heat and the way Eiji would groan with every bob of his head, encouraging him onward.

He took Eiji in his mouth and drank in the sound of Eiji’s stuttering breaths, almost reverent as he strummed whatever notes of pleasure Eiji’s body presented. The slight fold just beneath the head, the slit at its tip; Ash memorized the topography of lust between his lips and in the back of his throat, learning which dips and peaks lead to clenched fingers and a tantalizing shift in pitch.  The gentle saline of Eiji’s arousal became suggestively bitter, and the fingers in his hair pulled gently. It took moments for Ash to realize that this was a quiet plea to release him. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Eiji repeated, eyes glazed with clear want. 

“Is there something else you’d prefer?” 

“Anything,” Eiji said breathlessly, licking his lips as though tasting the words that escaped him. “But only if it feels good for you, too. And this… this does not feel equal.”

_Equal_ , he thinks.  _Almost, but not quite, the same as reciprocity_.

Ash remembered Eiji’s mouth curved like the edge of a knife, the eager moans as Eiji had milked him dry from beneath the dining table on Valentine’s Day. Ash, high on hormones and a heart still racing from pleasure, had boldly demanded “dessert”, a counterpoint to Eiji’s “amuse-bouche”… only for Ash’s nerve to abandon him the moment he considered reciprocity. He hated scales and weights, debts and balances; Eiji, without having to ask, had laced his fingers in Ash’s from across the table.

“Dessert is only sweet if you want it,” he had said simply, his smile achingly sincere. 

Ash considered Eiji, skin flushed and a thin trickle of sweat running along the dip in his collarbone like the juice of a ripened fruit. Eiji was lewd contradiction, a prim cardigan with buttons hastily undone, cock slick with spit jutting from neatly-ironed dress slacks. Eiji’s pleasure was addicting; knowing that he could partake in as much, as little, as he wanted made it that much more potent.

He allowed himself a small lick, shivering in anticipation as Eiji gasped softly. 

“I’m only doing this because I want to, because I haven’t stopped thinking about it for weeks. I never did get dessert, after all” he murmured, watching the dreaminess in Eiji’s expression sharpen in recognition. 

He knew how to deepen his voice in a way that erased any doubt about what wasn’t being said — had known since before his voice could manage the appropriate pitch. But this was the first time that his own body had flared with heat when someone’s eyes darkened with excitement, when a knowing smile and cock presented in blatant invitation hadn’t terrified him.

“Dessert is only sweet if you want it,” Eiji crooned, gently pushing back Ash’s hair and watching himself disappear between Ash’s lips. Eiji’s urgent moans sent a violent surge of heat straight between Ash’s legs, as though Eiji’s voice were fingers wrapped around his own arousal, coaxing him towards the same wantonness.

Without warning, Eiji’s hips jerked, cock thrust completely into Ash’s throat; Eiji’s fluttered open, wide with horror and shock, but far from revulsion, Ash felt desire, white-hot and unyielding.  Eiji’s pleasure was a fount within an arid landscape, begging Ash to allow himself to indulge. Ash looked up, nodding as he encouraged Eiji to repeat what instinct had demanded.

“Ash,” he sighed, his voice reverent and filthy as he withdrew slowly before thrusting forward once more. Eiji was cautious, body trembling with the effort to control himself even while the building pressure within him screamed for release. 

This was not the first time someone had fucked his mouth, but it was the first time that he felt himself filled with honeyed warmth rather than cold lead ; he needed whatever Eiji offered, wanted to give whatever he could of himself in exchange. Eiji’s lust was lightning joining two disparate beings; he felt Eiji’s feverish heartbeat mirrored through the staccato beneath his ribcage, pleasure like static electricity tingling in his veins. He could feel how loosely Eiji was tethered, how easily he would come undone; gravity retreated and his consciousness succumbed to weightlessness, stomach lurching as though Eiji’s climax had become his own.

Eiji gasped in warning before he came with a sharp cry. Figurative warmth became literal warmth, Ash mused, finding the familiar bitterness he gulped down to be more saccharine than expected. Eiji panted softly, bending down to press his lips against Ash’s brow, to whisper affection into his ear. Greedy lips met his, and Ash allowed himself to be claimed, for Eiji to ground himself. Ash traced the seam of Eiji’s mouth, running a tongue along his lips; Eiji’s voice was a muffled whimper of surprise, but he eagerly accepted. 

No one had ever kissed him afterward. He doubted he would have let them, as lips were little more than a latrine when all they received was refuse. 

Eiji melted against him, a soft purr in the back of his throat as he tasted the pleasure Ash had drawn from him. Eiji’s tongue chased after his, undisguised curiosity at sharing something so intimate; he could feel Eiji’s face grow warmer, could see the way his eyes widened when he risked a peek and realized he was being watched just as intently. 

Eiji’s lips against his, warm breaths mingling and body heat melting; he knew the language of sex better than his native tongue, but never before had it felt as though the conversation was shared.

“So… was it sweet?” Eiji asked, his smile tired but alight with mischief.

“You tell me,” Ash said, little more than a drawl as he mumbled against bruised lips and allowed himself to accept what Eiji offered. Even as he attempted to level the scales, to apply economics to whatever unnamed tenderness lay between them, Eiji seemed determined to meet him measure for measure.

_Not quite reciprocity_ , he thought.  _But close enough_. 


End file.
